


Centre

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Cross-Posted on Twitter, Dysfunctional Family, Growing Up, Hurt No Comfort, I Love Him I'm So Sorry Bby, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Introspection, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Short One Shot, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Why Must I Break My Son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 15:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10441368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Another nightmare, another morning spent piecing himself back together.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's been 300000 years since I last wrote anything... So have this solo I wrote for my Shiro RP. It is intended to be short, and a little simple, since I was going to post it on twitter (@shinononomeme). I'd turn this into a 1000 word instead of a 1000 characters fic, but it seems nice as is. If I made it any longer, I might accidentally start repeating myself, since it's very introspective ^^

Before joining his father's army, he rarely dreamt. All he could recall were flickers of a past insignificant to the outside world. His mother's hair tickling his face... His father's stern visage flickering with concern... If he was lucky perhaps a prideful glint. And now....

A deep breath. He was alone in training this morning, as usual. He preferred it that way, at least... ever since the nightmares began. False failures and corpses flashing before his eyelids, forcing him awake before the sun ever rose.

He spun his naginata in one hand, testing the balance from the center. It had a decent weight to it, light enough to handle, but still heavy with the burden of its purpose. Unforgettable regardless. Every time he held it, he is reminded of its burden, just as when he closes his eyes. Dreams filled with blood and ended wishes, glory flickering faintly on the horizon, almost forgotten.

He jolted himself mentally, forcing the train of thought away. He could no longer afford the luxury of hesitation, not with the expectations on him. Legs apart at the shoulders, keep breathing deeply. He lunged forth with the naginata, slicing at air, a faint whoosh its only sound. In his mind, he heard his father's voice: not strong enough.

He huffed and opened his eyes, twirling the naginata over his twirling body, dew covered grass tickling his feet. He brought it over his shoulder mercilessly, only for the clean slice to be halted abruptly, a smidge off from his forward center... Again, memories of the fallen. He thought of his father's words once more to drown the fear, the hesitation: not flexible enough.

Again and again, he struck at the invisible foe. With every strike, a faint memory, a new comment, another imperfection. Not flexible enough. Not sturdy enough. Not good enough. Not enough. Never enough.

And as dawn peeked over the forest trees, his fears were replaced with a quiet rage.


End file.
